#1755-Old stories
21/05/2022
When he was alive,
Dad had a curious way,
To self-describe.
I’m like mustard, he’d say.
A little is tasty; more burns.
It’s taken a while,
But now I can relate.
If today I could,
I’d tell him about me.
Dad, I’m like coffee.
Bitter, acidic, dark.
Thank goodness for milk,
Sugar, and hearts.
Comments are closed here.